


They're Called Angel Kissess

by deandatsgay (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Kid!Fic, Weechester, Young!Dean Winchester, mother-son bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:37:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/deandatsgay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My freckles," he says finally. Glancing at her under his lashes, he adds, “They’re stupid. I look like I have the chicken pox all the time."</p>
            </blockquote>





	They're Called Angel Kissess

**Author's Note:**

> So tumblr user freckledbuttchester posted this: I bet Mary kissed all of Dean’s freckles and made him giggle about it and maybe he’d hop up on the bathroom vanity counter while she was getting ready in the morning and he’d glance between his reflection in the mirror and his mama’s face and point out where they had matching freckles.
> 
> And then I wrote this. 
> 
> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://deandatsgay.tumblr.com/post/56628439254/freckledbuttchester-i-bet-mary-kissed-all-of).

"I don’t like them."

A soft strand of hair tumbles loose from the curler before Mary looks at her boy, sitting on the counter, little arms crossed, little legs swinging off the counter. She smiles, warm, because even petulant and tense, Dean is the most beautiful, most precious thing she has ever touched.

"What don’t you like, angel?" 

Dean uncurls his arms while his little mouth twists. He taps his fingers on his thighs. 

"My freckles," he says finally. Glancing at her under his lashes, he adds, “They’re stupid. I look like I have the chicken pox  _all the time_." _  
_

Mary laughs, shoulders shaking, and has to set the curling iron down. Small eyes narrow in her direction, which only makes her laugh again. Dean is the most serious little boy she has ever seen, so intent on being seen as an adult like his strong armed father, and has no idea how much younger it makes him seem.

"I look like I’m  _dirty_ ," he says. “This girl at the park today asked me if my mommy doesn’t give me baths because I have spots all over." He wrinkles his nose and crosses his arms again. “I told her my mommy was prettier than hers." 

"Now Dean," she admonishes gently, because as adorable as the sentiment is, she won’t raise a son that’s only defense is cruelty. “That’s not very nice."

“ _She_ wasn’t very nice."

Mary moves in front of her son, who instantly uncrosses his arms and holds them forward, eager for affection. She leans so he can wrap tiny arms around her neck, so she can hold his warm body in her own, breathe in the scent of his shampoo, breathe in his  _life_ , his  _safety_ , and smiles. When she pulls back, Dean blinks up at her with wide, innocent eyes. She’s vowed it before, but she makes another fierce promise to herself to keep that innocence shining.

"You know, Deano, I have freckles."

Dean blinks again, eyes wider. “You  _do_?" he gasps, disbelieving. 

"Mmm-hmm. See?"

She holds out her forearm. Dean latches onto it, pulling it closer as he leans down, eyes only inches from her skin as he searches for the speckles. His mouth falls open when he spots a cluster sprinkled across her wrist.

"You do have freckles!" he announces. He looks up at her, grinning almost nervously. “Just like me!"

She grins back at him. When he lets go of her arm, she runs her fingers through his hair. He leans into the touch.

"Your Dad thinks my freckles are cute," she tells him. “Someday, you’ll meet someone who thinks your freckles are cute too."

"I will?"

"Yep."

Placated, he swings his feet again. “Awesome."

Laughing, Mary takes her son’s face in her hands. “They’ll think the freckles on your nose are cute," she says, before leaning in to drop a little kiss to the tip. Dean giggles, squirms, says  _Mo-om_ , and Mary giggles with him. “And on your cheeks. And your chiny chin chin. And even on your little ears."

She accentuates each sentence with a soft, tickling kiss, leaving her little boy a gasping, laughing mess by the time she dances her fingers over his ribs. 

"Stop! Stop!" he giggles. 

By the time she does, Dean is flushed and smiling wide. 

With a final kiss to his forehead, she moves back to curling her hair. John will be home soon, and they have dinner reservations for 8:00. Dean watches her as curl after curl falls to her shoulder.

"Hey, Mom," he says excitedly. “You have some freckles on your nose too! I never noticed that before."

"Exactly like you do, sweetie."

He glances between their reflections, laughing and loudly exclaiming his new discovery each time he notes a similar spot. 

"You have some on your neck! I think I have some on my neck!" He twists to see his throat in the mirror. “I do!"

Mary unplugs the curling iron when she’s finished. She moves back to her little angel, who happily latches onto her as soon as she reaches for him. She shifts him in her arms and he continues to compare their speckles of freckles as she carries him to his bedroom.

"So one day…" he says as she lays him on his bed. “One day, I’ll meet someone who likes my freckles? Like Dad likes yours?"

"Of course you will, angel," she tells him, dropping a warm kiss to his forehead. “You’ll meet someone who loves every single one of them."

"They won’t think I look stupid?"

Laughing softly, Mary sweeps the comforter over him. “Nope. They won’t think you look stupid at all. They’ll think you look handsome."

"Handsome," Dean repeats, testing the word on his little tongue. “I like that. And brave?"

Mary laughs again. “Yes, angel. You’ll meet someone who thinks your handsome and brave and strong. Just like I think your Dad is."

He seems to mull the future promised over in his head. “Awesome," he says again.

"It will be very awesome," she says. “Now, try to get some sleep. Jenna is going to come look after you while me and your Dad go to dinner, okay?"

“‘Kay."

Mary smiles at him before tucking the covers tight underneath him. He’s asleep by the time she kisses his freckled cheek goodnight.


End file.
